The Labor Day holiday weekend is about to begin. In my mind, I have a list as long as Hadrian’s Wall of stuff to do. And my mind can make this list just as insurmountable. At any rate, that’s how it feels. The fact is, I have learned to write things down, checking each task off the list as I go. Much more satisfying. The DCAA Agility Trial is also this weekend I Louisville and I plan to take the dogs at least one day for crate training.
Great plans, you say? But not for long. Because, as ‘they’ say, make a plan and God laughs. Why? Because I have kids. They may be four-legged and have fur, but they are every bit my children, fiercely so.
My cats and dogs are quite intuitive at knowing when I really need to be left alone for just a few minutes. When they want outside, seconds later they want back inside. IN OR OUT!!!!! Bless their hearts, they don’t want me to miss anything. Then Chessie and Gabby (cats) will play hiss and spit. The game is to get Mom to squawk, because they sleep most of the day while I am at work. Outside, while trying to mow, Jethro will sometimes march along to make sure I am doing it right, but digging for moles and/or eating stuff I don’t want to think about is more the thing to do.
Right now, this blog post is being finished in the bathroom since head nudges and whining and ‘the stare’ don’t help. I can hear them outside the door, worrying that I may need help or they might miss something. I am sure other dogs do this, but not with such dogged (could not resist), determined, dedication. To be loved this much is such a gift.
So, to all the people out there who have rug rats, crumb snatchers, curtain climbers, carpet sharks, etc. stop telling furbaby parents that “we don’t know anything about having kids”.
Seriously. Stop it.